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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748002">Fainting Lady Chair Stage Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuramaAyako/pseuds/KuramaAyako'>KuramaAyako</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flight Rising, Minecraft (Video Game), Original Work, Wynncraft - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Drama, Horror, Mild Gore, Monologue, Other, Psychological Drama, Shakespearean Language, Uncanny Valley, subtle horror, vaudeville</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:08:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuramaAyako/pseuds/KuramaAyako</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Classic Vaudeville literature.<br/>This series consists of one-shots from classic Vaudevillian genres.</p><p>NO FANDOM IS SAFE!!!</p><p>The tags will forever be growing~</p><p>This is a series just for fun it will be updated whenever I think of something new</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Remains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pizza Delivery to a warehouse.</p><p>Uncanny Valley, subtle horror</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The seemingly abandoned warehouse came into view as Ned pulled up to the gate. The large sign glowed dimly against the fading twilight flickering silently illuminating the words on its face. ‘Remains Clothing Recycle Center’, one of the weirder addresses he’s had to deliver to that week, but not the worst. He exited the car and grabbed the Pizza from the passenger seat before walking up to the gate. He looked for some sort of call box to notify that he had arrived. No call box to be seen, but a large button above a keypad seemed like his best bet. Pressing the button gave an echoing buzz throughout the fenced-in area. It sounded for a moment before the noise slowly faded back into silence, leaving Ned silently waiting for some sort of entry.</p><p>A slow hum began as the large gate screeched open, leaving an unsettling knot to form in his stomach. Biting back his nerves he stepped passed the gate and up to a large metal security door hoping this was the correct drop off point. He didn’t want to wander around in the growing darkness. Giving two harsh knocks, he tightly gripped the handle of his delivery pouch waiting and hoping for someone to greet him quickly. His prayers were answered as the heavy door ground open revealing a very short woman with splotchy make-up and a messy wig that ever so slightly slid to one side of her head.</p><p>“Pizza delivery…” Ned said holding up the pouch. “I believe you ordered two large Mushroom Bacon Pizzas?”</p><p>The woman looked to the pouch and cracked a forced smile, but the strain only gave it a sinister air. “Yes that’s right...how much was it again?” The voice was much higher than he expected, with a strange accent that left a buzzing in his head. </p><p>“$25.35,” He choked trying to calm the still growing anxiety.</p><p>“Wonderful, one moment please,” The woman said turning to grab what Ned could only hope was her wallet, but as she turned back with money in hand he silently thanked whatever god was listening. “Here you go,” she said handing over two well worn 20 dollar bills.</p><p>“Ah...um…” he stammered ready to scramble for his change pouch but was quickly halted by a wave of her hand.</p><p>“Just keep it...food please…” She said reaching out her arms to receive the boxes. Her hands were small and gloved. Some of the fingers looked unfilled while others looked stuffed and hung limply. His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. “Did I not give enough?”</p><p>“No...no...it’s just…” He pulled the pizza’s out of the pouch and handed them over just as one of her eyes seemed to droop downwards leaving purple to peek from under the white. A quick flurry of blinks seemed to push it back in to place but still left Ned unnerved. “So uh...this is a clothing recycle center?” He asked hoping to take his mind away from what he just saw.</p><p>The woman was checking the boxes before looking up realizing he was talking to her. “What...oh yes...clothes...we take clothes...and shoes...and...blankets...drapes...anything fabric really…” She paused but quickly began talking again. “And pillows....we like lots of pillows. Do you have any pillows?”</p><p>Struck speechless Ned took a step back looking around at the building. It was a normal warehouse, and the sign still glowed dimly. “Not...with me…” He stammered as the knot in his stomach grew into a massive weight.</p><p>“Ah...alright then...thank you for the food.” The woman said setting the boxes down before shutting the door, leaving the man standing in silence.</p><p>He walked back to his car and rubbed his face. “I need a new job. Maybe I should just become a plumber.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Plague Dragon’s Plush Fantasy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A Shakespearian monolog of Flight Rising Plague Dragon</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings:<br/>-Minor Gore Description</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h2>
    <em>What beest this? Such softness, such a crisp scent. This can’t beest what those gents sayeth tis.</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>Such cleanliness and purity of an unmarked whey-face fabric wrapped a gentle yet plush textile. Tis not filled with fungus, tis not filled flesh, tis not stained and laden with the entrails that I’ve known softness to beest.</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>Tis surpassing everything I have known about comfort, but what is this creation? A product of the Arcane, peradventure an artifact of the Shadow?</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>I doth not knoweth its origins, nor its true purpose, but t beckons to cradle mine headeth as I falleth prey to mine fatigue. A few moments is all I asketh, please just alloweth me rest mine headeth.</em>
<br/><br/>
</h2>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Good Fortune for the Generous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Minecraft's WynnCraft Oneshot</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The captain of the Seaskipper had only one bottle of whiskey left. And he was docked at Llevigar--quite possibly the furthest one could be from Wynn while still on the ocean.</p>
<p>And then, first thing in the morning, a villager approached and asked him to deliver a crate to the Ice Islands, of all places. She wasn't familiar, but had the paperwork and emeralds ready, so of course he couldn't turn her down. He loaded the crate onto the boat and set off first for Selchar, where he picked up a few more boxes bound for the Durum Isles. That was on the same route, so it wasn't all that bad.</p>
<p>At the Durum Isles, he found a young human wanting to go to Pirate Cove, which was absolutely not on the route. The first crate wasn't perishable, and emeralds were always nice, so he made an allowance. The human, who simply called himself "Par", wasn't bad company, and seemed like he might be a repeat client in the future. But everything at that island was more expensive, especially imported Nemract whiskey, so he wasn't getting it there.</p>
<p>On his way back to the original route, he noticed the crate had a note taped on the side of it. The Light shows good fortune to the generous, it read. Propaganda of some sort. But as long as he got paid, he would transport it, and that stuff couldn't affect him anyway. And once he had made it to Nodguj, he was rid of it. He could go straight to Nemract without further interruption.</p>
<p>Except while he was about to untie the boat, a human rushed up to him, begging him that nobody else would take them to Maro Peaks and they needed to get there now and no, there was no time to stop and run an errand and they were already going to be two days late and they would pay him extra to get there quickly. He'd had worse days. He took the human, who didn't bother to give him a name or listen to much that he said. Then he went back to Selchar, since he was already relatively close.</p>
<p>There, he saw a familiar face for the first time all day. One of his more frequent customers, Fiz, waiting for the boat. She needed to go to Llevigar, and it was already getting to be the evening. He could only accept that Nemract wasn't happening today. Fiz listened to his stories on the trip, as usual, but he could tell she was tired. And when she wouldn't answer his questions directly, he knew something had her in a worse mood than his.</p>
<p>So, as he watched the last rays of sunlight recede from the Seaskipper's deck, he suddenly pulled out his only bottle of whiskey and offered it to her. He didn't entirely know what made him do it, and at the look she gave him, he realized he didn't even know if that was her favorite alcohol. But she took it and thanked him, and when he next looked at her she had already put it away for later.</p>
<p>Once he had dropped her off, he immediately went to grab his pillow to take to the inn. It was heavier than he remembered, and when he gave it a little shake he could swear he heard it slosh. So he set it down and reached into it.</p>
<p>He had one bottle of whiskey left for the night after all.</p>
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